Healing Waters
by ticklethebeast
Summary: Post At World's End- Jack finds Elizabeth in unexpected waters, and it seems she has a story to tell, of only he can save her first. Rating for mature themes and violence.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, nor any of the related characters.

Chapter 1:

"Gibbs, bring her in here," ordered Jack, the expression on his face one of frenzied worry; not a usual expression for the normally steadfast pirate captain. Whether or not he had a plan he usually felt so in control. At this very moment however he felt the farthest from surefooted that he ever had.

Gibbs followed Jack through the heavy doors into his captain's main living quarters, carrying a barely conscious, soaking wet, hypothermic Elizabeth Swann in his arms. He watched as Jack moved quickly to his bed, knocking books and maps off of the expanse of down mattress, and then lay her down on her back, dripping hair fanned out around her ashen face, the salt water seeping into Jack's pillow.

"Orders, Captain?"

Jack was solemn, looking down on Elizabeth, the rush of adrenaline still pulsing through his veins from the sight of her body in the freezing January Atlantic, skin tinged blue. He knew he had to act fast if she was going to survive the night.

"Man the helm. Make towards the south of France. If the crew asks questions, evade them. I'll likely be needed in here and unable to leave for quite some time." As he spoke he started removing his effects, and pulling off his boots as Gibbs exited the spacious cabin.

Jack needed desperately to get Elizabeth warm. Never mind what she was doing out here off the coast of Europe, so far from where he had last seen her, on that lonely island with the whelp some four months ago. As he looked at her unconsciously shivering form he knew what he needed to do.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth," he said aloud, even though he knew she couldn't hear. "I mean no disrespecting of your honor. I just have to go you warm." He walked toward her and reached down tenderly, and began to unbutton her vest and shirt, glad that she no longer bothered with corsets. He needed to strip her of her freezing wet clothing if he wanted any chance of assuring she survived the night. He winced, however, when he finally divested her of her shirt. There was bruising on her rib cage on the left side that looked consistent with a broken bone or two, and to his chagrin, there were bruises on her upper arms that very clearly resembled finger prints.

"Oh, Lizzie. What has happened to you?" His voice was a whisper, and as he fought her soaking pants off of her lithe form. Clearly someone had hurt her, and once he made sure she would pull through, Jack would find out who that was, and make sure he paid in kind.

Jack swallowed hard, fighting the strange ache behind his eyes that signaled emotion; strange that emotions and Elizabeth seemed to go hand in had these days.

Unable to find a pair of slacks that would fit Elizabeth, Jack settled on dressing her in a large thick woolen shirt of his own- something, which would definitely be warmer than the thin shirt and cotton he had just removed.

Still acting fast so as to make sure she didn't succumb to the cold, he climbed onto the bed next to her, first rubbing his hands around hers to create heat. He didn't want her to lose use of any of her extremities. When he was satisfied that her hands and feet were at least a little warmer, he knew that there was nothing left to do but hold her as close to his own body heat as possible and wait it out until she awoke.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack looked down at Elizabeth. She was wrapped in his quilt, and he was holding her as close to his body as he could manage to try and quell her uncontrollable shivering, which had calmed down considerably. She was disoriented, and in and out of consciousness, occasionally saying Jack's name, and "I'm sorry," which he thought odd. Unless she felt it that inconvenient for Jack to have fished her out of the icy waters, he couldn't think of anything he hadn't already forgiven her for. As far as he was concerned, the matter with the Kraken was in the past, and it had, in a backwards kind of way, saved them all. Well, most of them anyway, he amended his thought, thinking of Will. Undead must be better than fully dead, anyway.

He couldn't help but wonder what Elisabeth was doing here, all the way off of the frigid coast of Belgium in the North Sea. How was it that she happened to be in the waters he was sailing through? It seemed to be a bit more than coincidence, but she wasn't lucid enough to ask, and for that, all he could do was wait, and continue to wonder.

As he gazed down on her sleeping face, lips no longer chattering and having returned to their normal color, freckles spread over cheeks that once again were beginning to appear sun kissed and rosy instead of blue and ashen. Her hair was curling around her face as it dried, still matted and salty from the seawater, but Jack didn't care. He had to admit to himself, even if never to anyone else that she was indeed beautiful. William was a lucky man.

Jack frowned as Will crossed his mind again; a former friend and sometimes adversary, purely discrepancies of honor, bound forever to serve as the shepherd of the souls lost at sea. Jack couldn't even fathom what it must be like not to have the freedom to carry out live the way he wanted. He couldn't even contemplate being bound to one job, one course for eternity against his free will. Without his freedom, Jack thought, he would probably be lost, and for this he still found himself feeling consummately guilty for having put William in the position he now holds. At the time though, he knew it was the only way to save him; to save Elizabeth's happiness.

He looked down at Elizabeth again as she stirred, and turned her face into his shoulder, mumbling his name again. Why did she keep doing that? He brushed the hair out of her face.

"I'm right here, darling.'"

He thought about the last time he had seen her, rowing away in his long boat towards that lonely island at the end of the world, ready to take up her next place in life- the duty of being a wife to the whelp, even if only truly for one day every ten years. He recalled their last conversation:

_"It would never have worked out between us, Jack."_

She had seemed almost sad when she had said that. Perhaps she truly did think he was a good man. Gods knew she would be the first to think that, he mused, not sure if he even thought as much of himself.

When it got down to it though, there was a large part of him that was saddened at the prospect of losing her. Not only was he curious about what it would have been like to get the girl in the end, but he had realized that he truly did indeed care about Elizabeth Swann, and that he did in fact love her in a way that was purely Jack, and that he even respected her for all of the decisions she had made; while he had technically died and gone to the locker, he knew it was she who had fought to rescue him, in turn making sure that everyone she cared about stayed alive in the end. Without Elizabeth having chained Jack to that mast, all of the pirates left in their shrinking world would have died off due to his selfish tendencies along with their legacy—again, how could he ever be considered a good man? He smiled however as he thought of her clever scheming, knowing that he had indeed chosen the best Pirate King he could have, woman or not.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jack woke with a start when he felt Elizabeth stir beside him. It had been a day and a half and she was still unconscious or barely clinging to consciousness, and he must have dozed off without realizing it. She had finally gotten up to a regulated body temperature, but along with it came a terrible fever. Every hour or so found Jack wiping the sweat from her brow, or dripping water on her drying lips, hoping it would sustain and revive her. As he looked at her now, he realized that her fever must have finally broken while he slept. Her skin seemed to be covered with a sheen of sweat.

He stayed as he was, propped up on his elbow, watching her rapid eye movement as she began to become restless. He could tell she was dreaming something that she didn't like, but as he couldn't really do anything to help that, he settled back against the headboard and let his thoughts take him away, back to happier times. It was a few hours later still, in the middle of the night, when his name spoken in a whisper broke his reverie.

"Jack?"

He looked down at her. She seemed just as confused by her presence there as he was himself, but as she took stock of her surroundings and seemingly realized where she was she visibly relaxed and sank back into the pillow.

"What am I doing here, Jack?"

He looked at her, surprised. "I might ask you the same thing, young missy. What is it ye' were doing alone in the middle of the freezing ocean, other than dying? There were no ships in sight!"

Elizabeth's eyes flashed up to Jacks, still momentarily confused and taken aback by his tone before he saw a moment of clarity dawn on her, and as he had surmised, also a moment of fear and painful memory. Immediately, Jack felt guilty for having not used a kinder tone, but it had been nearly two days since her bizarre chance appearance, two days where he had not slept for more than a few minutes at a time, and during which he had forgone even a sip of rum so as to be completely alert, making him unusually grumpy, and he wanted answers. He had so many questions to ask, but for right now, the one closest at hand would do.

Elizabeth looked suddenly frightened by something, and as if she were on the verge of tears.

"Jack, I- I had to get away. I had to get away from him."

He gazed down at her pale form, seemingly withering away from the spirited, healthy, strong girl he knew. She had lost a lot of weight in the four some months that had passed since the great battle, which he had thought understandable considering the probably grief one would experience after losing a husband, but now that he was looking at her again, looking at the haunted expression her face betrayed, he began to wonder if it wasn't something more.

He waited until she spoke again, of her own accord.

"I was trapped, Jack. Trapped in so many ways." He was about to ask her to continue when she spoke again, offering much more at once than he thought she would give.

"I was trapped in marriage, Jack, to a man who couldn't be with me. After that one night, Jack, Will left me. He left the marriage. Annulled it. " She sounded bitter at that, which surprised him. He would have expected sadness, and hurt, but never bitterness towards her dear William.

"Jack, I was lost. I didn't know what to do or where to go. So I bartered passage off of Tortuga back to England, using my claim as Pirate King, aboard a vessel called the Scarlet Arrow."

Jack grimaced in recognition of the ship. He had had run-ins with her in the past- a large but uncannily quick ship captained by one of the most ruthless men alive; Zachariah Blackstone, whom unfortunately bore childhood ties to Jack and his home with Teague. Suddenly he felt all the more sure as to the origins of Elizabeth's bruises.

"Ye never got to England, did ye lass?" It was a statement more than it was a Question.

"Jack, his cargo. It wasn't the gold and spices that you carry, nor even cursed treasure of folk lore," She looked frenzied and feverish now, and he smoothed her hair back from her brow. "Jack, he carries humans. Slaves."

The frown lines deepened in Jacks brow as he watched Elizabeth cough, and wince at the pain it caused in her ribs. Picturing the man he once knew as a kid carting slaves across the globe in what he could only guess were inhumane conditions made his own stomach twist painfully. What had Elizabeth seen? What had Zachariah put her through?

Jack suddenly felt more protective of Elizabeth than he had of any living creature, and even more strange, he suddenly felt a fear he hadn't experienced in years; not even which facing the Kraken.

Pushing that aside however, he forced himself to shift his attention back to the girl at his side who was looking more haunted by the minute, now understandably so.

In a move so uncharacteristically tender it surprised even him, Jack leaned over her, blew out the candle on the bedside table, planted a chaste kiss onto Elizabeth's sweaty forehead, and then settled closely next to her, wrapping his arms lightly around her hoping to offer comfort.

"Sleep, Elizabeth. You're safe on my ship. We'll talk more once we're both more rested. When you wake you shall have food and a bath, and we'll see about your wounds."


End file.
